Dominatrix Louis Vutton Heels
by Azkas19
Summary: Akihiko can't afford to keep a classy chick like Mitsuru, not when he's still grieving over Minako. Set in the Persona Trinity Soul timeline.


Persona series and all its known characters belong to Atlus.

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><p>A domestic goddess in dominatrix Louis Vutton heels. That's what Mitsuru looked like to him.<p>

Akihiko pitied the man unfortunate enough to be her husband. She's more likely to bite the poor sod's head off in the midst of coital frenzy, and she wouldn't even be apologetic about it too. What made it even worse was the sneaky suspicion that she'd already picked her mate…and that man was - to put it in not-so-subtle terms - him.

He couldn't bring himself to appreciate the view. Who'd enjoy the sight of a pert posterior bending suggestively before the fridge anyway? He knew there was a world of lithe muscles beneath that severe black pencil skirt. If he closed his eyes and thought back carefully, he could still remember how they felt like in his hands.

"Don't you have anything else other than energy drinks in here?" Mitsuru's annoyed voice cut through his thoughts. "You can't possibly survive on these and instant ramen forever!"

"I'm still standing, aren't I?" he replied, going through the grocery items she'd bought for him with slight apprehension. True to traditional Kirijo style, cost was never an issue. His fingers skimmed over foreign wines and cheeses, the latter most likely to end up a moldy mess at the bottom of his rubbish bin by the end of the month. She knew about this, yet never complained and even kept on restocking his kitchen, which made things even worse. She cared for him, and it seemed so _wrong._

He simply couldn't understand it. He made about 4 million yen per year from his job in the police department…chump change compared to _her_ annual bank statement. He enjoyed his cheap beer and beef noodles. He was _happy _leading a middle class blue-collared existence. Yet Mitsuru insisted on civilizing him. No future Commissioner General of hers would be caught without proper social graces under her watch. That's what you could say about her: she's like the force of nature. Once she's decided for things to happen, it'll stay happened.

She'd never say it out loud, of course…but she was proud of him. He was doing something worthwhile, even if it meant tacking his life to a bulletproof vest while whispering desperate prayers within piss-soaked alleys.

He cleared his throat. "I'm leaving for Ayanagi in two days. I'd probably be there for a while, so you have to…take back the cheese."

She paused, a bag of apples cradled in her well-manicured hands. It almost felt like sin, seeing those slender fingers being made to perform menial tasks such as sorting out grocery. She should be doing greater things, like taking over the world…or running for president. She doesn't belong here in his sparse seven by six feet kitchen, with its leaky faucet and moldy ceiling.

"Oh? What is it about this time?" she asked, apples now abandoned on the countertop as she made her way towards him. Beneath the lights he could trace the outlines of black lace beneath that thin silk blouse. Really, why was she doing this? He'd already said no to her last time.

"Shadows," he said. "They're back. There have been reports of 'Reverse' cases and I'm willing to bet there're Persona users involved in this as well."

Raising an intrigued brow, she held out a hand commandingly. This gesture earned a frown from him.

"Mitsuru, you know I can't allow civilians to view the files. They're classified police information! I could get fired from this, you know."

"Can we just save some time here and pretend I've won this argument? You know I always end up having my way."

"No, Mitsuru. Not this time."

"Akihiko, I can help," she said, winding down her tone to a gentler one. "I _want_ to help. But I can't do that if I don't even know what I'm looking for."

She was right, dammit. She was always bloody right. Having her around was like having a personal Bruce Wayne. She doesn't prance around Tatsumi Island in a bat costume, of course…but the Kirijos network of informants ran deeper than the Yakuzas. She singlehandedly helped advance his career in ways only a grunt copper could merely dream of. Cases handled by him got solved quickly, missing people mysteriously reappeared and his superiors were starting to wonder if Lady Luck was shining on him every step of the way. They had no bloody idea.

He sighed, turning around to pull out the file from his bag. He wordlessly handed it to her, and she began skimming through them as she slowly made her way to the living room. Settling down at the coffee table, she spread out the case photographs onto the wooden surface in a cool, methodical manner. If she was affected by the gruesome images, then she was making a great effort at masking it.

"So this is how they look like when they have their Personas forcibly removed," she mused aloud. "No leads to how it was done? A machine, perhaps? Or even another Persona user?"

"That's why I'm going there. I've been in contact with their Superintendant Ryo Kanzato. He's the only one handling the case, and it's getting harder for him to keep things under wraps…what with the rising number of body counts. He's also a Persona user."

"Hm, you don't think he might be responsible for these…?"

"No. I have no doubt about that. These Reverse cases…they're all high school students with Persona capabilities. Kanzato's compiled a list of potential victims, and two of them happened to be his younger brothers."

"I'll run a background check on him, just to be sure."

"Mitsuru, you don't have to do this-"

"You're right. I don't," she replied, gathering up the reports and photographs and putting them back neatly into the file. She stood up and handed it back to him, looking at him squarely in the eyes as she said: "But I want to."

They stared at each other, then…both trying to weight out the other's thoughts. He hated her perfume, her lipstick, the graceful pillar of her neck and the delicious curls of her hair. He tried to hate everything about her just to drown the siren catcalls of his libido. _What kind of an ass-headed guy, _it argued, _would say no to this vision of feminine perfection? _She was subtly offering herself to him, and yet all he could do was hold her off at an arm's length.

He was the first one to look away. "Mitsuru…I can't give you what you want," he said. "Stop wasting your time with me."

"Stop assuming you know what I want," she said coldly. Grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at her, she continued: "I only want what I _need." _

"I'm sorry, alright? It just seems…wrong."

"Akihiko, it's been five years. You've been living with a ghost. How much longer will it take for you to move on? We _all_ miss her."

"I didn't mean-"

"You think I don't know about her voice recordings in your phone? Or how you listen to it every night before you sleep? You think you're the only one with painful memories of her?"

"Mitsuru, that's the whole point! I can't be with you because it wouldn't be fair! You deserve better than this."

Finally releasing him, she said: "Maybe I do." Without another word, she gathered her things and left his apartment.

_She'll come back, _he thought. _She always does. _

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><p>Thanks for reading...<p> 


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